Always Check Your Phone
by BurningBomb303
Summary: Arthur loves Alfred. He needs help and  he tries to get it from his good friend, Kiku. What happens when he makes a mistake and accidentally ends up confessing to Alfred? High School AU, shameless shout-outs to my other OTPs, especially PruCan.


Arthur Kirkland had an enormous amount of pride. Even as a child his peers as knew him one who would never admit to his mistakes or allow others to get the better of him. He was never one to boast unless given the chance and was always diligent in school. He got very high marks throughout his childhood and even on through his junior high school years. He had even managed to get elected into office as Student Council President as a sophomore. So how could he, with all of his indomitable pride, have fallen so far as to become lovestruck? Over a _guy?_

That's what the blonde, British teen found himself wondering as he entered his bedroom, dropping his school bag rather uselessly on the floor nearby. He, being the ever-studious youth he was, had finished his homework at school in the time designated for him to finish his Student Council work, which he'd completed earlier in the week. This freed him up to do absolutely nothing with his Friday night, as usual. Unless, of course, he decided to lay in his bed for hours on end and daydream about the very object of his affections until either hunger or sleep overcame him. Arthur sighed heavily as he bent down to fish his cell phone out of his school bag and then making his way over to his bed, flopping down on it face-first. As the fluffy duvet billowed out underneath him, he realized that it wasn't a choice. That was _exactly_ what he was going to do tonight.

The Brit moved his hand so the duvet flattened underneath his arm and brought his cell phone closer to his face. He clicked the button on the side of the phone, illuminating the small, LED screen on the front of the phone. The time read "4:37." He dropped his arm lamely to his side again. _He_ would be done with football practice by now. Arthur always found that slightly annoying. How _dare_ those Americans call such a slovenly, brutish sport "football", as if it even compared to the strategic and brilliant magnificence that was what the Americans called "soccer."

He felt his face reddening but his facial expression stayed the same: lonesome and somewhat annoyed. Just thinking about _him_ could make Arthur annoyed, but… for the better part of his year and a half in high school he couldn't get him out of his head. And why not? He was the star of the football team, one of the most popular guys in school. He was funny and loved by everyone. He was obviously very strong, which is why he was able to become star quarterback in such a short time. But most of all, he was drop-dead _gorgeous_. He always had girls surrounding him; squealing and flirting like a group of two-dollar whores. It was utterly repulsive the way they threw themselves at him, like he would lower himself to such a level. Honestly, that would be like a God dating a filthy screen-corner prostitute.

But… would he be any different? If he were… a _girl,_ would he just hang off of him like they do? No, definitely not! That would be ludicrous! Whatever gender, Arthur Kirkland was prideful and wouldn't be reduced to such behavior.

But _God_, he was just so, irresistibly handsome, he could understand where those floozies were coming from. He would love to run this hands over those rippling muscles (he had once had physical education with _him_, so he had the pleasure of seeing every perfectly sculpted muscle in his abs and pectorals, over his arms, _everywhere_), run his fingers through those beautiful strawberry blonde locks, to gaze into those perfect, cerulean eyes.

Arthur sighed dejectedly and buried his face in his comforter, trying to hide the deep blush on his face from no one in particular.

Arthur Kirkland was completely, utterly, and unequivocally in love with Alfred F. Jones, the American God brought into Arthur's life by, no doubt, a blessing.

Arthur was, admittedly, kind of stuffy and grumpy, very easily irritated, and had a hair trigger temper. How he had been lucky enough to even become _friends_ with Alfred was beyond the young Brit's comprehension. How _he, _the dull and boastful Student Body president, had been able to become close with the dashing football star was simply mind-boggling. Nevertheless, he never questioned it, less he might jinx himself and lose all connections with the love of his life.

How had he even grown to think of Alfred in such a way? He remembered how he'd met him; never before had such unadulterated senses of love, passion, caring, lust, and longing been thrust upon him so quickly and violently.

_The morning had been a blur. Arthur had somehow woken up late, which he never did… __**ever.**__ He blamed it on his younger brother, Peter, who had most likely had it with Arthur ignoring him and had decided to avenge himself through tarnishing the blonde teen's perfect record. Arthur was streaking down the hallways, his sandy blonde hair even more of a mess than usual (the Brit found it quite frustrating that someone who was supposed to be so on top of things had such an uncontrollable bed head) and one of the sleeves of his school's uniform jacket was hanging off of one, slender shoulder. He was carrying his bag in his arms, trying desperately to get to his first class without missing too much. _

_He rounded the last corner towards his classroom only to crash into a strong wall of flesh. The force of Arthur's momentum plus the added weight of his bag held in such a way sent them both tumbling to the ground. The Brit expected for a hard, sharp pain in the shape of a linoleum floor to shoot through his jaw as he fell, but such a thing never came. He opened his eyes to stare right into another pair: a brilliant, ocean blue pair that were not at all hindered or overshadowed by the glasses, now slightly askew, resting on the bridge of his nose._

"_Whoa, dude, you alright?" Arthur heard the boy say, but he didn't answer right away. He had lifted himself a little higher and was looking in the young man's face now. It was, in a word, flawless. His complexion was creamy and perfect, not a blemish in sight. He was grinning, showing off a dazzling, Hollywood smile. His forehead and part of his eyes were covered by blonde bangs, which hung underneath the rest of his hair. From said hair stood a stray cowlick, if it could be called that. It stood at attention at the top of his head, almost as cheery-looking as the shine in the boy's eyes. And just like that, Arthur was caught in Alfred's trap. And boy, was he in deep. _

"_Hey, you hearin' me, man? You alright?" Arthur actually heard him this time, jumping slightly as he heard the question a second time. He realized that the boy had an American accent, which sounded uncommon around all the eccentric accents floating around World Academy. _

"_A-Ah, yeah. I'm sorry, I'm just-" Arthur stuttered, his face growing redder by the second._

"_Hey, don't worry about it, dude! Like something like that would hurt the hero!" the teen cackled. _

"_H-Hero?" Arthur asked lamely. _

"_Duh, dude! And who is this elusive hero's secret identity, you ask?" Alfred said, his grin growing wider and showing off more of his perfect set of teeth. "Its me, of course! Alfred F. Jones, my friend!" _

_Arthur found himself too dazzled to be annoyed by the other teen's arrogance and just stared at him. _

"_And you ran into the hero, looking all in a tizzy like you need some help," Alfred smirked. "Could it be that you're my damsel in distress?"_

_Arthur immediately snapped out of his daze and blushed, sitting up immediately and glaring down at the handsome American._

"_H-How dare you, you wanker! I'm no one's 'damsel in distress', git!" Arthur spluttered. _

_Alfred's smile just grew wider still. "Well, you're certainly blushing like a hero's leading lady would."_

_The burning in Arthur's face only intensified and he grew angrier still. "I don't even know you, you twit! Don't talk to me that way!"_

_Alfred laughed again. "You're pretty cool, man, I like you." _

_Arthur stopped yelling profanities at Alfred and looked down at him._

_"What's your name?" _

"_A-Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."_

"_Oh, right! The Student Body president! I gotta tell you, I voted for the other guy," he said before laughing. _

"_What? How could you vote for that bleeding frog? He's such a nuisance, a pain in my arse, a-"_

"_Yeah, dude, trust me, I know. Francis can be such a douche, sometimes. Don't really know why I voted for him," Alfred said. _

_A man this gorgeous who hated the French student as much as he did? Was he in Heaven?_

"_Dude, not that I'm not enjoying our conversation, but could you get off me? You're crushing my walnuts, know what I'm saying?" Alfred said, chuckling._

_Arthur's thick eyebrows raised in confusion and looked down at himself. He realized in horror that he was sitting on, essentially Alfred's crotch and his hands were resting on his lower stomach. He blushed madly and scrambled to get up. _

"_I-I gotta go," Arthur said quickly._

_"Really? Aw, bummer, dude. I guess I'll see you around then?" he asked expectantly._

"_S-sure…" the Brit said uncertainly. "B-Bye."_

_"See ya, dude!"_

_Needless to say, the Brit's mind was on anything but the lesson that he was twelve minutes late for. He couldn't get that boy out of his head. He was just so… __**gorgeous**__, He reminded himself to give Peter the biggest hug when he got home, thanking him a million times over for screwing with his alarm clock._

_Arthur remembered returning home that day and fluttering like a hummingbird through the rest of that day. He was on Cloud Nine; nothing was able to spoil his mood. He was… in love._

There was only one other person beside himself who knew of Arthur's crush on Alfred and that was Honda Kiku, a Japanese student with whom Arthur had become very close friends. He was smart, just like Arthur and, despite being somewhat shy, the first person Arthur could go to for help.

Kiku had known Arthur for a few years when the Brit had first met Alfred, so he knew his mannerisms quite well. That's why he was slightly disturbed when he saw Arthur moving dreamily through his day at school, a goofy smile never leaving his usually pouty face.

Arthur picked up his phone again and checked the time. "5:07." He'd been lost in his thoughts for quite some time but quickly noticed how flustered he'd gotten through the course of that time. He could feel his heart pounding, head swimming, and face burning.

Arthur sometimes found that he had a hard time keeping himself from spilling his secret to his American friend. More than that, he had a hard time keeping himself from throwing his arms around him and kissing him breathless. He could almost always feel his confession burning on the tip of his tongue and had to swallow it down before he did something he'd regret. He wanted Alfred. _Badly. _But if he were to be perfectly honest with himself, he could never see him actually telling him so. And that _killed_ Arthur. He wanted to tell him so badly, but why did he have to be such a coward? _Why_ couldn't he take a chance? He knew why. Alfred wasn't _gay._ He wasn't going to fall for the nerdy Student Council President with the bushy eyebrows and the bad attitude.

He growled as he flipped his phone open and went into his messages. He couldn't take this anymore!

"_Ah, Kiku! I can't take this anymore! I love him so much and its driving me completely insane…" _Arthur thumbed the quick text and sent it, snapping his phone shut and waiting anxiously for a reply.

Meanwhile, Alfred was just returning home from football practice. He dropped his dirty jersey and equipment in the laundry room before heading out into the rest of the house.

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred said fondly to his twin brother, who was sitting on the couch with his pet bear, Kumajirou, in his lap.

"Hey, Al. How was practice?" his twin turned around and smiled, his unruly curl sprouting out of the top of his head bouncing with the sudden movement.

"Um, excuse me? You totally forgot to grace my awesomeness with a 'hello'!" a head of silver hair resting atop very pale skin turned around, his blood red eyes glaring at Alfred. His arm was wrapped possessively around Matthew's shoulders and Alfred noticed that they were cuddling.

"Oh, sorry, didn't see you there. Hey, Gil," Alfred said unenthusiastically. He didn't particularly like Gilbert, but he made his little brother happy and that's all that mattered. He needed to keep his arrogance in check though or someone (namely Alfred) might have to hurt him. He would also have to make sure he didn't _ever_ hurt Mattie or someone (namely Alfred) might have to _kill_ him.

"That's better," Gilbert said, turning back around in his seat. He pulled his arm closer around Matt's shoulders and Matt sighed happily, leaning more into his Prussian boyfriend's chest.

"I'll be upstairs for a while, Matt. I have to take a shower," Alfred said, starting his way up the stairs.

"Okay, Al," Matt said, turning slightly to nod at his brother and smile.

"Whatever," Gilbert said, waving him off, most likely trying to coax the American up the stairs faster so he could start sticking his tongue down his twin brother's throat. Al made sure to go really slow.

He got into his room and reached into his practice pants, grabbing his cell phone and tossing it onto his bed before stripping down out of his sweaty clothing and tossing it in the general direction of the nearby hamper. His undershirt made it into the basket easily, which he congratulated himself on, but his pants weren't so lucky. They hit the side of the hamper before rolling off of it and falling to the floor. Alfred moaned dramatically and went to fetch them, knowing how much Matt hated it when he let his clothes clutter their room.

He made his way to the bathroom, passing by a clock that read "4:45."

He turned the shower on, waiting for the water to warm up to a temperature that Matthew would yell at him for later. Alfred felt only a little guilty, mostly because his poor, twin brother would have nothing to wash his boyfriend's slobber off with.

He enjoyed the feel of the water rolling off his body, allowing all of the sweat and grime from football practice just wash away. He shampooed his hair, taking special care to avoid hitting his "special" strand of hair on top of his head; nicknamed "Nantucket" for a reason he's long since forgotten.

He got out of the shower not long after and walked back into his room, wearing nothing but a towel, which was hanging low on his hips, while he shook the water out of his hair, sending little drops of moisture in all directions. He pulled a clean pair of boxer shorts out of his dresser and slipped them on, followed by a pair of jeans that he had spotted on the floor nearby and had deemed clean enough to wear.

He picked up the discarded towel from the floor and tossed it back into the bathroom, feeling accomplished when he heard it make contact with the tile with a wet _thwop._ He plopped down on his bed, spreading his arms out wide as he let his body fall back onto it. He stared at the ceiling for a while; admiring the posters he'd stuck up there of some of his favorite bands. He had a lot of American musicians' posters, which was because America, being, like the greatest country, _ever_, had the best music. He had Hollywood Undead, Eminem, 3OH!3, Lady Gaga, and even Ke$ha, who he shamelessly loved without taking any shit about it.

He was studying the poster through his blurry, near-sighted eyes when he felt something vibrate next to him. He picked up his phone and looked at the screen. Even without his glasses he could see that his screen was illuminated and displaying a picture of a little envelope, telling him that he received a text message. His vision was blurry but he could just make out an "A" underneath the image. His face broke into a smile; there was only one person who texted him whose name started with an "A."

He grabbed his glasses (nicknamed Texas although he also couldn't remember why, just like "Nantucket" on his head) already started typing a reply to what he assumed to be Arthur's usual greeting: "_Hey, you twit/tosser/wanker/etc_." However, an unusual impulse to check what the text he received actually said had him quickly deleting his "_Hey, dude, what's doing?" _

"_Ah, Kiku! I can't take this anymore! I love him so much and its driving me completely insane…"_

What? Arthur was in love with somebody? The "him" part of the message, clearly designating that the Brit's crush was a _guy_, was not surprising to Alfred; Arthur has confessed to him about his sexual orientation some time ago and Alfred had been totally cool with it. Why wouldn't he be? Even though Arthur wasn't aware of it, Alfred, the American, dreamboat, chick-magnet, star quarterback was gay as well. It wasn't as if he'd tried to hide it from his friend, the fact was that he'd just never asked.

But back to the matter at hand; who the _hell_ was Arthur in love with? It couldn't be Francis… right? The Brit hated his French rival too much to have a relationship with him… Unless there was a secret, underground, steamy, Student Council office scandal that… Alfred shook the thought from his head and reminded himself to return the doujinshis he'd borrowed from Kiku back to his Japanese friend.

Okay, so if not Francis, then who? He went through a mental list of the guys at his school that might be interested in Arthur. Gilbert was gay, obviously, but despite his bad boy exterior, he was completely smitten by Al's twin, so he was out. Antonio, a Spanish boy in their grade, was also gay, but also already taken by one of the two Italian twins that went to his school.

Alfred kept checking through names, but the more he thought about the people who might be dating Arthur, the more worried he became and soon his mind was reeling and he had to stop.

_Who?_ Who could possibly have Arthur so enamored that he would try to take the young British teen away from him?

It was true; Alfred had been in love with Arthur for a long time. He remembered their destined encounter in the hallway very well, but even before that he'd watched Arthur from afar, fascinated by the sheer beauty of the smaller boy. His sandy blonde hair that hung messily in his face was perfect, no matter how unkempt it looked. His hypnotizing, emerald green eyes were just like two gems that Alfred could get lost in forever. Even his rather thick eyebrows were just adorable beyond compare.

That's why Alfred felt a wave of jealousy, nervousness, and guilt wash over him, so overwhelming that he had to stop and clear his head.

Now Alfred wasn't just stuck with a problem that would keep him awake all night, but he was also faced with a decision.

The American _could _let Arthur know that he'd accidentally texted the wrong person and drop it, but then Alfred would be stuck wondering. His other option was to pretend to be Kiku until Arthur noticed and just get some info. But what if Arthur hated him afterwards? He wouldn't be able to stand that!

Alfred wasn't sure how it happened, but before he knew it, his fingers had typed back "_Who_?" and hit "Send."

Now he was _really _panicking and knew he'd gotten himself caught in deep shit. There was no turning back now. He was too anxious and jittery now, so he decided he needed some guidance.

Back at Arthur's place, the young British student's phone buzzed and he picked it up, not even bothering to read who had sent it. He scowled when he read the message, more than slightly annoyed.

Kiku was a trusted friend of his and definitely one of his closest. But recently, Kiku had started going out with the Greek boy in their school (seemed like everyone was dating someone except him.) Kiku seemed… kinda flighty since but that was no excuse for him to forget something like this! Kiku had been Arthur's go-to guy about his crush on Arthur since he'd first met him.

Arthur quickly replied and laid his head back down on his pillow.

Alfred received the next text message and he opened it nervously and somewhat excitedly. Who was it? Who was the bastard stealing his Artie away?

"_Are you daft? You know who! ALFRED!"_

Alfred stopped in the middle of going down the stairs and stared at the screen. A-L-F-R-E-D. Alfred. That was _his _name. That was _his name!_ Arthur was in love with… him?

Alfred finally broke out of his trance and long enough to try to continue his way downstairs but he misjudged where his foot was going to go and ended up tumbling down the stairs.

Matthew and Gilbert suddenly broke apart, Gilbert somewhat reluctantly as Matt looked around anxiously for the source of the loud banging he'd just heard.

"What was that?" Matt said, still looking around.

"Come on, Birdie, your brother probably just fell down the stairs or something," Gilbert said, trying to steer them back in the right direction.

Matthew looked at him before smiling gently. "Yeah, you're probably right." Matt knew that, as a football quarterback, Al could take a hit, so he was more than likely just fine. He leaned back into Gilbert's arm that was slung around his slender shoulders and looked into his boyfriend's ruby red eyes. His own violet ones portrayed a message that Gilbert received immediately and they were leaning towards each other again, their eyes slowly closing. Matt's lips were open slightly and they were only centimeters apart when…

"MATTIE!" Alfred suddenly appeared behind the couch, effectively scaring the couple and causing them to bang their foreheads together painfully.

"Aw, dammit!" Gil cursed loudly. Alfred was cool and all, but sometimes, he could be such a goddamn cock block!

"What _is_ it, Al?" Matt groaned, rubbing his aching forehead irritably.

"I have a serious problem!" Alfred said hastily.

"What, can't get it up? You know, they have a pill for that now," Gilbert teased. Alfred ignored him and continued to his brother.

"Okay, so Arthur accidentally texted me, thinking I was Kiku and said something like, 'I have to tell him I love him' and shit, right?" Alfred blurted out quickly. Matt nodded, showing that he understood the situation so far and his brother continued. "So then I was all like, "Who?" and he went-"

"Wow, that's embarrassing," Matt interrupted. "What did he say when you told him it was you?"

Alfred's face darkened a little and he looked guiltily at the carpet.

"Al, you told him it was you, right?" Matt said, the undertone in his voice taking on the mother-tone, as if to say "_If you didn't, you're in such deep shit._"

"Well…" Alfred twiddled his fingers nervously and Matthew threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Al! That's completely violating Arthur's privacy!" Matt scolded. "That conversation was for Kiku and him _only._ Why would you disrespect him like that?" His face was reddened in frustration and there was more of a pout than a frown on his face.

"I know! I didn't mean to keep going… I mean, I was _thinking_ about telling him it was me, but then my fingers just moved on their own!" Alfred said, ashamed but still giddy for some reason.

"So? What did Arthur say back?" Gilbert asked, always ready for some new rumors to spread around.

"Gilbert! Don't encourage him!" Matt snapped, as if Alfred were his and Gilbert's son.

"He said… me," Alfred said, unable to hold back the grin on his face.

Matthew, who, being Alfred's twin brother, obviously knew about his crush on Arthur, let the anger lift from his face as he stared into his brother's eyes.

"Really?" he said, incredulously.

Alfred opened his phone to the message he'd received last from Arthur and turned it around to display to his brother. Gilbert took to staring over Matt's shoulder at the small screen.

"Alright!" Gilbert raised his hand up and Alfred high-fived him., both of them smiling jubilantly. Gilbert was always around their house, so he knew about Alfred's crush as well, even if Matt hadn't told him by accident that one time…

"Congratulations, Al!" Matt said, smiling as well. But then his face fell again. "But he's going to notice that you're the one he's texting eventually, right? Won't he be really, really mad?"

"I know, I know!" Alfred said, his smile not quite leaving but still falling nonetheless. "I can't just tell him though. Then he'll try to take it back and we'll be back to square one."

"Why don't you just keep texting him, pretending to be Kiku and see how far you'll get?" Gilbert said. "If you get to a certain point where he won't be able to take it back, then at least you've moved forward."

"Gilbert, that's an-"

"Great idea!" Alfred said, his fingers already getting him back to the conversation on the phone and his feet carrying him back to his room. "Thanks, Gil!"

"Gilbert, why would you tell him to do that? Now he'll-" But Gil's lips were already on top of Matthew's again and all of his arguments died back in his throat.

"_Just tell him. What could go wrong?"_ was the reply that Arthur got after some time. He scowled at that answer. What could go wrong? _Everything could go wrong_!

"_He'll just laugh at me."_

Alfred was sitting on his bed again, his legs were crossed Indian-style and he was finally entirely clothed. His face twisted into an expression of pure confusion and sadness as he read this. Did Arthur _really_ think he'd do that to him? Did he seem like that much of a dick?

"_What makes you think he'll do something like that?"_

Arthur's thick eyebrows raised and he stopped for a second. He didn't know why he thought Alfred would do that, but he felt like it was entirely possible.

"_He's not gay, first of all. Plus, he's got all those sluts surrounding him all the time. He would laugh at me for just THINKING he'd choose me over them."_

Alfred was getting pretty pissed by now. If that's how Arthur saw him and if that's how he thought the America really was, then he was severely mistaken. He wasn't some dick who would laugh in the face of someone who had confessed to him. He knew how much courage it took for one to confess something so serious to another and he greatly respected that. Besides, its not like _he'd_ had the bravery to do that yet.

And sluts? Come on, that was a little unfair.

"_Would you really love him if he were like that? Is that how you really think he is?" _

Arthur frowned. No, of course not! He would never love someone who would act in such a way. And no, he definitely did _not_ think Alfred was like that. His friend was caring, sweet, funny, smart…

"_No, I suppose I wouldn't. But you've seen the way those girls throw themselves at him. He's so popular; he could have any girl he wanted. Why would he choose me? And besides, those girls probably only want him for his status and his pretty face. There's so much more to him than that."_

Alfred often wondered what made all the random girls in his school so head over heels for him. He didn't see that much in himself… Okay, he did, he was the _awesome Hero_, after all. But still, he desperately wanted to know what _more_ there was to himself.

"_Like what? What do YOU see in him?"_

Oh, there were too many things to list. He didn't even know where to start. By the time he had finished typing his message, his face was entirely red up to his ears and he hurriedly pressed "Send" before he lost his nerve, even if it was just Kiku,

"_Well, despite his ignorance and thick head, his terrible eating habits and his Hero complex… He's sweet and sensitive, he can always make me laugh, he can always, ALWAYS make me smile when I'm down. He's smart and chivalrous, not to mention gorgeous. Those girls don't see his real qualities. Not to say I've not fallen victims to that smile, that laugh, those beautiful eyes of his… Oh, my God, Kiku, I'm so in love with him, its ridiculous. I love him so much, it hurts."_

It would be the understatement to say Alfred was flattered and he could feel himself falling again. For someone to see all _that_ in him…

"_And I bet he's fallen victim to your adorable pout you make when he teases you, your breathtaking eyes that he could stare into forever, and that SEXY accent."_

"_Um, Kiku? Aren't you dating Heracles? Didn't you say you thought that you were in love with him and all that?_

This was it. Alfred threw all caution to the wind in this next message.

"_He might be, but I love you."_

"_What?"_

"_Kiku is in love with Heracles, but I'm in love with you."_

Arthur read the text over and over, trying to make sense of its cryptic message. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks and he knew there was only one way this text message made sense. He felt his blood run cold as he checked the name at the top of his "Conversations" box. He was horror-struck as he read, clearly, "HERO/ALFRED."

Goddamn Alfred and his fucking hero complex! He changed his contact to "HERO/ALFRED" a while ago and Arthur had neglected to change it back. And what was right underneath that godforsaken contact number? Why, "Honda Kiku", of course.

All of the realization, humiliation, and nausea came over Arthur at once and for a second, he felt as though he was going to be ill.

He couldn't believe that this had happened. He couldn't believe he'd been so _stupid_ and _ignorant_ as to blatantly ignore the name at the top of the texts. He couldn't believe that he hadn't noticed the cues in Alfred's texts that would lead any sane person that they were texting the American. And he couldn't believe that Alfred would be so cruel as to make fun of him. He must be mocking him, right? There was _no way_ that Alfred actually returned his feelings.

He looked down at his phone, staring at it and willing for the entire conversation he'd just had to go away. But it didn't, and he had to respond.

"_You… How COULD you? How DARE you make fun of me like that?"_

Alfred had not seen that coming at all and he was completely thrown off. He felt his blood turn to ice and he broke into a cold sweat.

"_Arthur, please, calm down! I'm not lying to you, I swear."_

One little part in the back of Arthur's mind was begging for the rest of him to believe him. He wanted for him to be telling the truth _so bad. _But why would the most popular and gorgeous guy in the school want to go out with boring, stuffy, old Arthur? Instead of letting himself fall victim to the sincere-looking reply, he let his rage build and he bit back acidly.

"_Yeah, right! What could YOU possibly want to go out with ME for? You're such a jerk, you know that? You have all those girls falling all over you yet you still find it entertaining to mock me."_

Alfred was dumbstruck and extremely wounded. Alfred would _never_ to something as awful as mocking a love confession to anyone, let alone Arthur, the very love of his life.

"_Arthur, you're being completely ridiculous! I LOVE YOU!"_

If Arthur had seen that last part, he might've finally believed his American friend's attempts to convince him of his feelings. But the first part of the message left him seething with rage and he hadn't bothered to read the rest of it.

Arthur almost immediately hit the name on the conversation in which he was talking and hit the "Call" button. Alfred picked it up almost immediately.

"_I'm _the one being ridiculous! You start up this shit and you have the _gall_ to call me ridiculous?" Arthur spoke in a low, murderous tone and Alfred was shocked.

"Arthur, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lie about being Kiku for so long, but I just… I don't know, man. I had to see for myself what-"

"No!" Arthur suddenly snapped. "I'm not even all that mad about that! I'm mad because… be-because…"

Alfred was confused by Arthur's sudden stutter but he heard a sniffle come from the other side of the line and he realized in horror that his best friend was crying.

"I'm _furious_ because you heard all the stuff I said about you and you had to turn around and make fun of me!"

"Arthur, I swear to Christ, I am _not_ making fun of you! What could I possibly have to achieve from lying to you?" Alfred could almost hear the pleasing in his voice but he didn't care.

"I-I don't know. You get some twisted pleasure out of making me miserable!"

"Arthur, we've been best friends for a while now! How and when have I ever made you miserable?" Alfred couldn't believe his ears. He must've hurt Arthur terribly to make him believe all of this.

"Right now! Right now, when it matters most to me! I knew you liked to mess with people but _this_. This is just despicable!"

"Arthur…!"

"Do you know what the worst part about all this is? Do you want to know? After all that's happened tonight, _I still fuckin' love you! _What the hell did you do to turn me into such a sniveling excuse for a human being? To turn me into some hopeless romantic that was too lovestruck to check the name on his phone! You've turned me into a complete mess!"

"Arthur, please! Just listen to me! I promise you, I never-"

"I-I HATE YOU, ALFRED! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" Arthur screamed into the receiver. There was a deafening and pregnant silence that followed the Brit's outburst in which both boys were shocked. Arthur didn't mean that, Alfred knew that. He didn't mean that. He couldn't!

"Arthur…"

Arthur, on the other hand, was completely horrified with himself. Why had he said that? He didn't mean it! He loved Alfred; so much it hurt. But still, he had blurted that out. Oh, God, Alfred's going to hate him now for sure. Who would love someone who said such idiotic things?

He felt his face reddening and brand new tears welling up in his eyes. He couldn't bear it if Alfred were to yell back at him, so without thinking, he pressed the "End" button on his phone.

Now, Alfred was _really _panicking. Arthur had just hung up on him. Even if he tried to call again, he probably wouldn't pick up.

His head was swimming and he didn't know when he'd started, but next thing he knew, he was running through his house. He somehow managed to make it down the stairs without falling and ran through his living room to his front door.

"Mattie,Arthurfoundoutitwasmeandnowhe'!" Alfred cried to his brother as he swung open his door and ran through it. "Don't wait up, be back soon, love you, bye!" He slammed the door and was gone.

Meanwhile, Matthew, who was lying on top of Gilbert as they were making out rather steamily, sprung up on his elbows to look over the top of the couch and at the front door.

"D-Did he say something?" Matthew said, quickly fixing his glasses which had been thrown askew during the couple's heated embrace.

Gilbert, who was fed up with being interrupted, ignored his question and grabbed the blonde behind his neck and pulled him back down.

Alfred wasn't even paying attention to where he was going or how long it was taking him to get there, but he had a hunch where his feet were taking him.

He was already at Arthur's house and was ringing the Kirkland's doorbell when he realized he had no idea what he was going to say to Arthur. Should he try to convince him that he really loved him again? Should he beg him to forget what he'd said and try to go back to normal? That would never work. Should he just throw it all to Hell and just kiss him? God, he'd _love_ to do that, but he was smarter than that.

He jumped about a foot in the air when the door opened and he started panicking again. What if it was Arthur and slammed the door in his face?

He started hyperventilating but calmed down immensely when he saw Peter, Arthur's younger brother, at the door.

"'Ello, Alfred!" Peter said excitedly. He, being the wide-eyed, innocent, little boy he was, saw Alfred as the hero that the older boy claimed to be. "Are you here to play with me?"

"Sorry, not tonight, buddy," Alfred said, but kind of looking past the little boy and behind him into his house.

Peter took notice and looked behind his own shoulder briefly. "Oh, Arthur isn't here right now. He left a few minutes ago."

"Left?" Alfred asked, finally turning to look at the child. "Where did he go?"

"I'm not really sure," Peter said, furrowing the thick brows that he and his brother shared in concentration. "He left in a hurry, you know? He ran in the direction of the park that way." The younger boy pointed down the street, which was growing darker with the setting sun. It almost looked like an ominous tunnel.

"Alright, thanks. Bye, Peter!" Alfred said quickly before bolting down the road towards the park.

"O-Okay, Alfred! Bye!" Peter yelled after him, not even registering the panicked tone behind Alfred's voice.

Alfred himself kept running without ever stopping. The park was only about two blocks from Arthur's house and the boys had gone there on occasion to hang out during the summer or meet with their other friends.

When he finally came upon the small playground, he didn't see the small Brit at first and was scared that Arthur wasn't even there. But before long he noticed the small, broken figure sitting on the park bench and his heart wrenched when he saw that he was curled together with his head in his hands and his shoulders were shaking with sobs.

"Arthur!" Alfred's lips called before he could stop himself. Arthur's entire, small frame jumped slightly as the other teen's voice split the night air and he looked up for only a few seconds before he stood up abruptly and took off.

"Arthur, come back! Wait!" Alfred ran after him almost immediately and he was surprised at how fast Arthur could run. He, however, being the quarterback on their school's football team, easily caught up to him. But the position of quarterback, unfortunately, does not require much form and he tripped rather gracelessly forward, dragging Arthur down with him onto the grass.

Alfred quickly regained himself and took the momentary confusion as an opportunity to secure Arthur and keep him from running away again. He straddled Arthur's hips, sitting on the Briton's upper thighs. He also grabbed both of Arthur's hands in one of his own and put them above his head.

Arthur's face reddened immediately, whether it was from the embarrassingly compromised position, seeing Alfred so soon after such a humiliating incident, or just the run he'd just endured, Alfred didn't know. But once he regained his composure, he started flailing and squirming, trying to dislodge himself hopelessly from Alfred's strong grip.

"Alfred, let me go!" Arthur demanded.

"No! Not if you're going to run away again!"

"Of course, I'm going to fucking 'run away again'," Arthur mocked him sarcastically. "I don't fucking want to see you, you tosser! Now or _ever_!"

"Why are you running from me? I need to talk with you!" Alfred yelled.

"You have the bloody _nerve_ to ask why I'm running from you? You know damn well _why_ I'm running away from you, and I have absolutely _no_ interest in anything you have to say!" Arthur retorted.

"But I'm trying to tell you that I love you!" Alfred shouted.

"Stop telling me that! Stop lying to me! Quit telling me things that we both know aren't true!" Arthur shrieked.

"It _is _true!"

"No, its not!"

Both boys were left panting from screaming at each other and they stared at each other for a while.

"…Why?" Arthur whispered, barely loud enough for the American to hear.

"Why what?"

"Why did you have to see those messages? Why did you have to try to make fun of me to get a cheap laugh? _Why_ did our friendship have to change?" Arthur cried, tears coming to his emerald eyes again.

"I'm not making fun of you! If anyone should be asking 'why', it should be me! Why is it so hard for you to believe that I love you?" Alfred said.

"I don't have to tell you," Arthur snapped back.

"Yes, you do!"

"Why?"

"Because I really and truly love you and I deserve to know the truth!"

"Stop saying that!"

"No!"

"Stop lying, Alfred!"

"I'm not!"

"You have to be!"

"Why?"

"Because it would be impossible for someone as amazing and gorgeous and incredible as you to be in love with someone like me, okay?" Arthur shrieked.

Alfred let go of his hands suddenly; just out of the pure shock of hearing Arthur say that.

"It's impossible for the gorgeous, talented, star-quarterback Alfred F. Jones to fall in love with stuffy, old, caterpillar-eyebrows me," Arthur murmured, tears falling over again. "Now get off of me."

But Alfred did quite the opposite. He fisted his hands in Arthur's jacket and pulled him violently towards himself, lunging forward to crash their lips together.

Arthur was flabbergasted at first and was just about to pull away when he started to feel the faint tingling like small electric shocks coursing from his lips all throughout his body. The sensation kept growing to the intensity of fireworks going off between their lips when, all too soon, the sensation was gone.

"You idiot," Alfred said, his cerulean eyes smiling down into Arthur's wide ones. "How could I not love you? I should be considering myself the lucky one."

Arthur was still dumbfounded over the kiss but he still heard every word coming from the mouth that could give him such a feeling. "W-Why?" he managed to stammer out.

"Because beautiful, smart, wonderful Arthur Kirkland fell in love with little, old me," he said, his smile growing wider.

"A-Alfred…" Arthur said, astonished. He felt himself falling again and a small voice in the back of his mind told him to hold off and wait for the second when Alfred would laugh in his face. But he heard a lot more voices telling him to believe him. "You're… serious? You're not lying to me?"

"I would never, _ever_ do that to you," Alfred said and his face was completely serious.

Arthur looked into Alfred's face and saw everything he loved about the American and more, reflected in those perfect, sapphire eyes and he fell in love all over again.

"Alright. I-I believe you," the Brit said, his face heating up with pure ecstasy. Alfred's eyes grew wide and he grinned as he threw his arms around Arthur's shoulders, tackling him to the ground.

"Oh, Arthur! I love you, I love you, I love you!" Alfred exclaimed.

"Ow, Alfred! You're crushing me!" Arthur grunted. Alfred got off of him and held his hand out to help Arthur up like a real gentleman would.

This time, they did it right. They stood up and stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before embracing each other tightly under the peach glow of the streetlamp. When they separated, they only did so a few inches and looked at each other again. Slowly but as if in one motion, Arthur wound his arms around Alfred's neck, hypnotized, and Alfred slung one arm around Arthur's thin waist, pulling him close. He let the other lace through his sandy blonde hair, tilting Arthur's head even closer to his own. They never took their eyes off each other as their lips connected again, deeply and moving together as if two parts of a perfect machine. Alfred's forest green eyes slowly closed, his entire body in pure bliss.

Arthur felt the electrifying sensation start even quicker and more powerful as Alfred ran his tongue along the Brit's bottom lip. Arthur gave him access immediately and it was all he could do keep back a throaty moan.

The two made out for what seemed like hours until they finally separated and were sitting together on the bench nearby, Alfred sitting behind the smaller boy, his legs spread wide so that Arthur could sit in between them. Alfred's strong arms were snaked around Arthur's thin waist and his head was resting on the Brit's shoulder.

"So, we're together now, right? Like, dating? Boyfriend and… boyfriend?" Alfred asked hopefully, twisting his head toward Arthur and giving him a quick kiss of the cheek.

"Well, I would very much hope so!" Arthur said, only half-teasing. "After all you've put me through, I hope for a date, at the very least."

"Alrighty then, I'll pick you up tomorrow at six, given we're both not grounded for sneaking out to a park at night for a steamy, nighttime rendezvous," Alfred said, grinning.

"That sounds absolutely wonderful," Arthur said, smiling. Arthur placed his own arms on top of Alfred's and they just sat there for a while, enjoying their embrace in silence. After a while, however, Alfred broke the stillness.

"Arthur… I really am sorry for everything that happened tonight. But, and don't take this the wrong way, I wouldn't trade anything that happened for the world," Alfred whispered, his voice laced with pure affection.

"Hmm…" Arthur hummed appreciatively. How is it that this idiot was able to read exactly what was on his mind? "Me, neither, love."

Alfred chuckled and turned his head so his nose was nuzzling against Arthur's creamy cheek. Arthur turned his head and their lips met sweetly. The kiss escalated quickly and when Arthur found it too much of a pain to crane his neck any longer, his turned around in Alfred's lap. Without ever breaking the kiss, he moved his legs so that he was kneeling on the splintery wood of the bench and straddling Alfred, winding his arms around the American boy's neck. Alfred, in turn, wrapped his arms around Arthur's waist.

When the two finally came up for air, Arthur looked down at his new boyfriend, his face flushed and his forest-green eyes obviously mesmerized with the other. But he pulled it together quick enough to say, "But if you _ever_ touch my cellular again, I'll kick you in the balls so hard, you'll taste your own semen."

"Well, _that_ doesn't sound pleasant," Alfred laughed. "But I promise, I will never, _ever_ do something like that again."

"Thank you, love," Arthur smiled at him and whispered, "I love you, Alfred."

"I love you more, Arthur," Alfred said, cupping Arthur's head and bringing it down to kiss him gently on the forehead.


End file.
